So today I decide to visit Ru’s human to see if she is home, and perhaps learn a bit more about his mysterious fascination with bathrooms and drinking out of the toilet.  She was not home, but this little beauty met me on the steps.

Ru, is there something you want to tell me?

Molly, of course, is having none of it--or him, that two-timing little Casanova.  Apparently, he just loves those tabby girls.

Yesterday, he committed a major faux pas (paw?) and ambushed her in the litter box, and last weekend tried to smell her butt while she was eating.  He also engages in long conversations with himself in the mirror in the middle of the night.  Nothing but naughty, that cat.

Yesterday, I bought Ru a handsome black leather collar with little diamond crystals on it, but was afraid that once again someone would remove it.  I suspected he had people, but didn’t know for sure.  So I attached a friendly note asking that the collar stay on for his own protection, because otherwise Animal Control might get him.  I didn’t give my name or address, or anything, because the last time I took in a cat who later was found to have people, it was this crazy, paranoid Mexican lady who refused to collar the cat or even go to the shelter to look for him when he finally did go missing.

When Ru showed up this evening, imagine to my surprise that there was a little return note attached to his collar.  I cut it loose and unrolled it very carefully.  In tiny handwriting, Ru’s human told me she was happy to share him with me, because her job meant her time was very limited; she gave me her name and address, and even his vet’s information.

Turns out that Ru’s real name is Trouble.  He’s four years old, micro-chipped, fixed, and has had throat surgery after getting into a fight with an opossum that nearly killed him (definitely sounds like Ru, the little scamp).  He’s also a big sweetheart.

Right now, the little troublemaker is sleeping on his special towel on the couch, and is very happy to be indoors where it’s warm.

Ru has started inviting himself indoors and exploring; he does this even though he has an owner somewhere, because his collars keep disappearing, and he isn’t the one removing them.  Molly isn’t too sure about his presence in the house; she stalks him from room to room.  Occasionally, I hear them hissing and growling at each other, but no one gets hurt.  He even took a little nap on the sofa in the garden room, which Molly didn’t approve of AT ALL, because she likes to sleep there.  She hissed and batted at him; he told her to get bent.

Apologies for the poor quality of the picture.  I took it in low light at night.

So last night as Mom and I were watching Project Runway All-Stars, I hear something being batted around and toyed with in the garage.  Lo! and behold!  Ru has discovered a plastic packet of catnip on a table, ripped it open, and is blissing out on the garage floor.  And who should be sliding and rolling around in the nip with him, but Molly?  I could have sworn she didn’t like nip!  Naughty little thing, she just wanted somebody to nip with.

So here they are, chilling out after getting high as kites.  All those darker blotches on the floor?  Spilled catnip.  I had to do major cleaning in there this morning.